Of Childhood and Being Different
by halloween princess
Summary: Sherlock and John's adopted son Hamish gets beaten up at school because his family's a little different, which happens to bring back some of Sherlock's unpleasant childhood memories. A pointless oneshot based off an RP, in which Sherlock may be slightly OOC.


Another after-school beating. How routine. Hamish Watson-Holmes was the outcast at his school, much like his father had been. He stumbled through the door, holding his left eye - which was swelling and pouring tears - and trying to smooth his unruly ginger curls. His crystal blue eyes flickered over the flat nervously. He tried to avoid his fathers, moving quickly across the floor of 221B Baker Street, but nothing slipped past them. "H-Hey Dad. Hey Pop," he said, trying to hide the pain in his shaky voice.

"Would you like to tell us what happened?" Sherlock asked, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading. Hamish groaned, knowing by some wild sixth sense, his father already knew of his peril. "I...I got beat up again," he said sadly, limping to the freezer and digging through it to get a bag of ice.

John immediately stood up and rushed over to him, tilting his son's chin to get a better look at his swollen eye "Oh Hamish..."

Hamish looked shameful as he shrank away from him. "I'm sorry I'm such a loser, guys," he whispered in disdain. "I'm such a lousy son...I don't even know why I come out of my room." He tore away from John and bolted up the stairs to his room, taking two and three at a time. John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose "Sherlock, we have to do something"

"Pray tell what you would like to do. He's just like I was when I was growing up. Perhaps we speak with Mycroft or Lestrade?" Sherlock asked, quirking an eyebrow and glancing at him from behind the paper.

"Well what did you do whenever you got beat up at school?" John asked curiously, staring at the stairs.

"Nothing Hamish would do. I could also afford a cab to take the back streets and loose them. Hamish...He's not the boy I was," Sherlock said, going back to his paper. "Well we can't just sit here while our son gets beat up nearly every day!" John said exasperatedly, rubbing his temples.

"So we bring in the big guns. After all, the Yard does owe me a few favors," Sherlock mused, a glint in his eyes as he scanned the papers absentmindedly.

"You want to bring the Yard into this? Isn't that a tad extreme?" John asked, crossing his arms

"Nothing is too extreme when it comes to MY son," he said, folding the paper and standing. "Now, I need to plan," he said shortly, laying down and folding his hands, closing his eyes.

"Mind palace..." John muttered. Though he was sure whatever Sherlock was planning would be unnecessary, he was still glad that Sherlock truly cared for Hamish. The floor boards upstairs creaked, and a soft sob echoed through the house. John looked to Sherlock "Sherlock, go and talk to your son"

"Thinking," he said shortly, a look of annoyance crossing his features.

"You understand what he's going through better than I do" John sighed, crossing his arms.

Sherlock growled and sat up "YOU come up with a plan then," he said getting up and walking to the stairs. John groaned, but was still pleased Sherlock did as he asked him to. He sat on the couch, staring at the floor in contemplation.

Hamish heard his other father coming and locked the door. "G-Go away," he said, trying to sound firm.

"Hamish, open the door, or I'll have to pick the lock myself" Sherlock said simply. A long few moments passed before the door clicked unlocked, to which Sherlock smirked slightly and opened the door, pressing it shut behind him. Hamish was curled up right there on the floor with his back to the tall genius. "What?" he asked sadly. "Come to help me pack?" Sherlock sat down on the bed, and stroked Hamish's hair somewhat soothing gesture "Of course not" The boy shifted closer, seeking comfort more than solitude.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Did you get bullied, too? Is that why Pop sent you up?"

Sherlock sighed and nodded "Yes"

Hamish touched his hand gently. "What do I do? I don't want to fight back," he whispered.

"You outwit them" Sherlock told him simply "They may be strong, but their stupidity rivals Anderson's..." Hamish giggled at that a bit. "He lowers the IQ of the entire city of London," he said, remembering how his father had nagged about him all the time as a child.

Sherlock smiled "Precisely".

Hamish moved his head into his father's lap. "Dad? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course" he said, placing his hand on Hamish's head.

"Is it...different to be attracted to guys...AND girls?" he asked. Seeing as he was raised in a gay family, he'd never really seen a man and a woman together. Sherlock shrugged "It's perfectly natural" he said simply. Hamish nodded. "Oh...I know I see kids in the halls snogging, but... I've never seen a guy and another guy. Girls, yes, but never a guy...why?

" "It's simply a matter of sexual orientation. Should two men find themselves attracted to one another, then the relationship is like that of a male and female relationship"

"Really?" he asked, clearly interested. "What are girls like?" he asked eagerly. "Have you been with one, or have you always loved pop?" Sherlock gave a soft smile "Before your father, I was always married to my work. He was my first and only love"

Hamish beamed, his eyes gleaming. "That's so cute!" he said, before covered his mouth. "S-Sorry," he said sheepishly. Sherlock laughed slightly "That's alright". Hamish blushed. "Am I...A freak, dad?" Sherlock tensed a little bit, the words reminding him of his own childhood "Of course not"

"Everyone at school calls me that. "Hamish the Homo", "Freak Junior" I...I'm beginning to believe them," he whispered. "You have no reason to believe that. No reason what so ever" Sherlock immediately defended. Hamish looked at him, almost instantly putting two and two together. "We're you...The School Freak, too, Dad?" he asked, sitting up a bit and grabbing his hand.

Sherlock sighed and looked away "Yes" he grit. Hamish sat up and hugged him. "Daddy," he whispered, sounding as he had when he was a mere child. Sherlock hugged him back, closing his eyes and trying to erase childhood memories he knew would always stick with him. "Dad...Y-You're gripping my arms," Hamish whispered, trying to mask his pain. Sherlock's eyes snapped open and he instantly released his grip, pulling away from Hamish.

Hamish looked up at him. "Dad...Look at me," he whispered. "Please..." Sherlock looked at Hamish reluctantly, his eyes watering a bit. Hamish stood, offering a hand. "Come here," he whispered. Sherlock raised an eyebrow but took Hamish's hand and stood anyways.

Then, his son did something that Sherlock would have never expected. He pulled him in and hugged him tightly. Sherlock gasped slightly, his mind taking a minute to process this before hugging him tightly in return. "I love you, Dad," he whispered. "I couldn't and wouldn't want another set of parents..."

"I love you too Hamish" Sherlock whispered back, stroking the boy's hair.

Hamish sighed. "S-Should we go fine Pop?" he asked softly. "Yes, we should" Sherlock said with a small smile.

Hamish trotted down the stairs, Sherlock at his heels, and looked at John. "Pop?" John immediately snapped out of his contemplation and looked at between Sherlock and Hamish "Yes?" Hamish looked at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking guilty. John's eyes widened a bit "What for?" "Being a sorry excuse for a son," he said softly.

He looked back at Sherlock for a brief moment, before putting his hands on Hamish's shoulders "You are far from a sorry excuse" Hamish moved into him. "Dad helped," he replied. "At least I'm not the freak in this house...We're all pretty weird, yeah?" he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. John laughed a bit "Most definitely". Sherlock smirked at this: sometimes, it was alright to be a little different.


End file.
